First a Cough
Carried Me Off
Then a Coffin
They Carried Me Off In
Stranger tread
This ground with gravity.
Dentist Brown
Is filling his last cavity.
Tom Smith is dead, and here he lies,
Nobody laughs and nobody cries;
Where his soul’s gone, or how it fares,
Nobody knows and nobody cares.
Here lies the body of our Anna
Done to death by a banana
It wasn’t the fruit that laid her low
But the skin of the thing that made her go.
Here lies Lester Moore.
Four slugs
From a forty-four.
No Les
No More.
Here lies a man that was Knott born,
His father was Knott before him,
He lived Knott, and did Knott die,
Yet underneath this stone doth lie.
Here lies the body of Thomas Proctor
Who lived and died without a doctor.
Owen Moore
Gone away
Owin’ more
Than he could pay.
On the 22nd of June
Jonathan Fiddle
Went out of tune.